


Tell Me How We Met

by thedark_before_thedawn



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:50:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedark_before_thedawn/pseuds/thedark_before_thedawn





	Tell Me How We Met

Isabella hesitated outside of the light wooden door. She took a minute to take a deep breath. She stared at the number on the door; 17. She smiled to herself, remembering how Florence had declared in fate seeing as that was the age she had met Isabella. That was on one of her good days. But now Isa was taking a moment, as she always did before entering, to try and prepare herself for whatever mood or state she was in today. It never got easier.

She gave a light knock before entering and covered her constant worry with a smile. On the armchair in the corner of the room; by the open window that shone sunlight into the room and allowed bird songs to flow in with the light breeze, sat Florence. Isa’s once towering love was looking rather small and frail.  
She gave Isa a smile. Isa knew that smile. It was Florence’s ‘not quiet forgotten you but can’t quiet remember where your face is from’ smile. Isa shut the door behind her and slowly made her way to Florence.  
“Hey Flo, it’s me…Isa.”  
“Isa?” Florence whispered to herself quietly, looking down in concentration as she tried to remember.  
Isabella came closer and hoped her name would spark a memory. “Yes Flossie. I’m your wife, remember?” Isa pulled a chair up beside Florence’s and took a seat; easing herself down slowly with her joints feeling her age. All the while Florence stared at her with wide eyes.  
“My wife?” She asked, looking taken aback.  
“Yes, your wife.” Isa placed her hands on one of Florence’s that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Is that okay?” Isa smirked, raising an eyebrow.  
Florence bit down lightly on her lip, trying and failing to hide her grin as she blushed. “How did I ever get you?”  
Isa’s smile faltered into a sympathetic one. She reached a hand to brush a lock of hair away from Florence’s eyes. Her trademark fiery locks had now faded to a silver but 51 years after they first met, Florence still maintained the same beauty that made Isa’s heart feel like it would never beat normally again.  
Isa gave a light sigh. It had only been in the last year that Florence had really started to forget people but every time Florence failed to remember her, or how they met, it broke her heart more and more.  
“Tell me how we met.” Florence smiled, shyly.


End file.
